


Ghosts Are Like Wishes

by BrittleDame



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Memories, Semi's guide on how not to grieve, Sharing Ideologies, Stargazing, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittleDame/pseuds/BrittleDame
Summary: As a child, ghost stories had a power over Semi like nothing else. The threat of his father hearing about his misdeeds as a child was nothing comparison to the story of a vengeful spirit cutting down innocent lives on the street for no other reason than to hurt others just like she had been.Now all Semi wishes for is to see a ghost.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Ghosts Are Like Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t able to join semishira this year bc uni work but I fell in love with the star gazing prompt and all the beautiful works that the authors participating put up and then this was born…

Sometimes living is the strongest thing a person can do. Semi didn’t feel strong.

It took every fibre of his being to just stand there and _breathe_ while the person he loves most lays there doesn’t breathe at all.

Pale eyelashes rest against high cheekbones, lips painted the barest hint of the dark pink shade that Semi used to spend hours trying make bloom red. At least Kenjirou’s face is its usual pallor, pale from not getting enough sun between long shifts at the hospital and short nights spent wrapped in Semi’s arms.

People say that dead loved ones look like they’re sleeping amongst the padded satin of their casket.

Kenjirou doesn’t.

From the past five years Semi has shared a bed with the dark blond, he had come to learn that Kenjirou was a fitful sleeper. Constantly shifting and turning back and forth, as if he never could get comfortable. Kenjirou was also a serial blanket thief, which was something Semi learnt to get around by having two quilts on the bed, especially in winter.

It was wrong to see him so still.

And yet Semi couldn’t bear to take his eyes off of Kenjirou. He was distantly aware of other people coming up to Kenjirou, murmuring some word or another. Some were brave enough to place a consoling pat on Semi’s back before realising that Semi is worlds away from the pastel yellow-painted room with its buzzing fluorescent globes.

Semi was waiting for a sign of life, a life-line thrown by Kenjirou. Waiting for the stubborn doctor to suddenly appear by his side and say, _‘Hey, I’m here and I never left you. You just couldn’t see me.’_

As a child, ghost stories had a power over Semi like nothing else. The threat of his father hearing about his misdeeds as a child was nothing comparison to the story of a vengeful spirit cutting down innocent lives on the street for no other reason than to hurt others just like she had been. When the nights were darkest, and every sound was a monster coming to get him, Semi despised ghosts and the innate fear they instilled within his small body.

Now, all Semi wanted was to see one.

To see Kenjirou one last time – to give him a proper goodbye – would be a gift Semi would cherish from here until he lays in his own glossy casket. He’d trade in all his earthly possessions to catch just a glimpse of a ghost right now.

The ghost of someone that devoted himself to Eita just as wholly as Eita did to him. The ghost of a stubborn man that tricked Semi’s poor heart into pounding fiercely anytime he caught the barest hint of a smile on the shorter’s face. The ghost of a determined man that let nothing stand in his path, whether it be his career or personal relationships.

But ghosts weren’t real.

Semi wasn’t going to receive another debilitating smile, or an eye roll when he says something silly, or pinch on the arm when he talks suggestively.

It’s been seven long days since the sheets on Kenjirou’s side of the bed cooled, only to never be touched again. Still, every night Semi wakes up in a cold sweat, craving Kenjirou. Every night he reaches out into the inky black, seeking that familiar warmth, only to be met with nothing.

He wasn’t there. He hasn’t been there for a while.

It wasn’t fair. They barely knew each other for a decade, they barely spent half of that time dating. Kenjirou barely had time to live, he’s still so young.

Semi shoved his hands into his pockets, hiding the trembling fists from pitying eyes. This day wasn’t about him. Today was about Kenjirou and he wasn’t going to make a scene. As much as he wanted to unleash the grief banging at the doors of his mind, to collapse right here and grab Kenjirou’s hand and tell him it was alright to wake up now and that no one would be mad, he didn’t.

Instead, Semi shuttered his eyes, physically holding back his tears and leant down to kiss Kenjirou’s forehead.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He murmured into Kenjirou’s fringe, soft from the treatment by the mortician, but Semi allowed himself a moment of weakness and ignored the foreign shampoo scent and tricked himself into believing that he was just sleeping after a shower. Work had been hard recently, so it wasn’t weird that he fell asleep before Semi even though he was adamant on them falling asleep together.

Time hasn’t been kind to either of them. Kenjirou bared the brunt of that curse by accident, while Semi was just trying to ride out the storm with his sanity intact.

He afforded one moment longer, trying to stretch a second into eternity. He then straightened up, nodded to Kenjirou’s parents standing to the right of him, both with tear-streaked faces, and made his way to the too-hard seats and bide his time until he was alone again.

Time was more fluid without its structure, slipped through Semi’s hands like water and refused to be manipulated. Not long after, Semi found himself in the Shirabu family’s reserved section in the nearby graveyard.

Now gathered around an empty grave, the casket gets lowered into the grave and Semi’s heart sinks with it.

Ushijima’s hand rests heavily between his shoulder blades, while Satori has a death grip on his right hand. The touches were probably meant to serve as solace and yet it felt like agonising reminders that he was ever so painfully alive while the one that should be here beside him isn’t.

Semi floated through the final speeches, not even remembering getting up and giving his own if it weren’t for the praise friends and family members gave him at his heart-touching words. Semi felt like he was hovering outside of his own body, soul tethered to it by the thinnest of strands. It was unbearably thin, not even a breath and it would unravel and let Semi float away.

Baring through the condolences and sorrowful murmurings killed Semi. Every tear-streaked face as they talk to him at the wake served as a dagger to the chest and every praise about him pulling up so well in the face of Kenjirou’s demise felt like a step closer to his own grave.

If Semi was in a sane mind, he might’ve punched them for saying that, but he felt numb, painfully numb. It felt like moving underwater to nod and shake hands with everyone that approached him.

He hasn’t spoken a word since he said his goodbye to Kenjirou. No one expected him to speak anyway.

Satori and Ushijima ended up driving him back to his empty apartment. Their worried glances through the rear-view mirror did not go unnoticed and Semi was far-too drained to snap at him to keep his eyes on the damn road.

_That’s what got Kenjirou killed after all._

He clenches his trembling hands into fists in his lap, mentally timing his breathing.

Ironically, out of the two of them, Kenjirou was the one that enjoyed driving. Always the logical one, he liked the practicality of having his own transportation, which turned out to be beneficial with his shifts sometimes extending well after the buses and trains stop for the night. Semi himself had never really seen the fuss in owning a car, the trains ran near his work and the bus system in Sendai was pretty timely, so he never went out of his way to get his license.

Thinking about it, Semi is almost sure Kenjirou and him once had a long conversation about car wreck statistics and mortality rates in Japan after the doctor came home, ragged and hair a mess. Apparently there was a pile up on the highway that night and it was all hands-on deck.

They lost three out of seven people that night. Nearly half. Two children and a young man.

Semi hated seeing Kenjirou looking so… defeated.

With the power of foresight, Semi can see the irony in talking about the startling amount of drink driving that occurs and the lives they irreversible impact on.

They spent what little remained of that night curled up on the overstuffed lounge that Semi scored from helping a co-worker move out of her apartment. Is wasn’t the most comfortable, but they had each other for that night, the stiffness of the cushions under them was far from their minds.

Blinking down at said lounge in front of him, Semi startles.

When did he get home? He looks around and sure enough, he was in their shared apartment, Kenjirou’s slippers still waiting by the door and a week-old newspaper sitting forgotten on the tiny dining table they’d eaten so many delicious meals on.

Releasing a shaky breath, Semi scrubs at his eyes. He needs to pull it together. He needed to text Satori and thank him for the ride, as well.

Walking down the hallway littered with framed photographs, Semi stops at the one near their bedroom doorway. It was Kenjirou on the day he graduated, a wide smile on his face as he stares as the camera Semi was holding, dressed in black and gold regalia, holding the paper of his dreams.

Semi’s fingers trailed over the smiling face, a moment frozen forever in time.

“I’m home.” He says to no one and he doesn’t wait for a response, walking into their room.

He goes through the motions of taking off the stiff suit, down to his boxers and carefully lays down on his side of the bed.

The bed was a mess really, sheets askew and pillows out of place, but Semi hasn’t had the heart to fix it up. Everything was exactly how Kenjirou left it and fixing it felt like erasing those traces he left behind.

Turning to face Kenjirou’s side, he fiddles with the sheet before deciding it was too soon and flipping on his other side and looking out the large bay window that sold Kenjirou to this apartment in the first place.

Semi doesn’t know how long he lays there, staring out at the clear night sky, mind completely bereft of any thought.

Abruptly, the bed dips behind him as a body settles against his back. A pale arm wraps around his waist, seeking out Semi’s larger hand. Semi grabs it and laces their fingers together.

Letting out a sigh, Semi doesn’t need to look back to know who’s there.

“You were so brave today. Thank you.”

“I wasn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Semi says, not moving his eyes away from the brightest star he could find.

“It’s to be expected. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” A kiss is pressed onto his shoulder and Semi wills himself to feel warmth there. “You’ll move on soon.”

“I don’t want to. I can’t.”

“Yes you can, and you will.” The hand tightens around his and hot tears finally start to fall, searing Semi’s cheeks. “You can move on and still honour my memory, you know?”

“I know.” Semi whispers, choking up.

A hand brushes through his hair, the motion familiar to how Kenjirou would comfort him on his lowest days, when the insecurities would eat at him until he could barely speak. Semi shudders and relaxes into the touch.

“There’s so many people ready to help you, Eita. You just need to let them in. And yes, I know it’s easier said than done.” Semi gives a small, hysterical-sounding laugh and the voice hums back. “You let me in without any second thoughts. I need you to do it again for me. Please.”

“I don’t need them. I just need you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was so much sadness in the other’s voice, it matched Semi’s own.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Semi squeezes his eyes shut, heart painfully constricting inside his chest. It felt like he was dying. He wishes he was. “It hurts so much, ‘Jirou.”

“It will for a while, but I know you’re strong enough to get through this.”

“I can’t,” Semi sobs. _Not without you._

“You will.” The voice was hard with conviction and Semi could almost believe it. That was the power of Shirabu Kenjirou who possessed a determination so strong, he could convince others to believe in his words.

The hand left his hair and caressed his cheek. Semi closed his eyes and tried to engrave the feather-light touch into his memory, right next to the other memories Semi has archived to lament over in the future.

“You know I’m not really gone. I never left your side.”

Semi nods, unable to talk with the lump in his throat.

“I love you, so much. I know our time was cut short, but I want you to cherish those memories. Can you do that for me?” Kenjirou’s voice is soft, almost a whisper that Semi struggles to catch.

Semi stays still and he hears a sigh and the brush of lips against his jaw, contrarily feeling like velveteen rose petals pressed against his skin and like nothing at all.

“Please, Eita. This one thing.” There’s a thread of desperation in those words that Semi is unfamiliar with, causing his already banged up heart to ache all the more.

“Okay,” Semi whispers, scared that he’ll break this moment into a thousand glittering shards that cut deep enough to bleed and bleed until he’s nothing but a shell of the man he used to be.

“Good.” The barest hint of a smile in the other’s voice dulled the aching in Semi’s chest. “I love you.” The presence repeats, arm tightening around his waist, but it lacks the weight.

“I love you too, forever and a day. Like I promised you two months ago.” Semi says, cracking his swollen eyes open to look down at the simple golden band resting on his ring finger. He could almost feel the engraving on the underside burn into his skin.

_K & E for forever and a day._

The dip in the bed disappears, as does Kenjirou’s presence, like he was never there at all. The tears fall harder, blurring his sight until he was swallowed by grief’s gaping jaws.

Semi believed in ghosts until he didn’t, too full of life to care about anything beyond what he could immediately see. Semi didn’t believe in ghosts and yet he hopes that maybe this one will stick around a little longer and help heal his own spirit.

But tonight, while he’s feeling helplessness, he finds himself lost in memories. Soon, without realising it he even falls asleep to one of his most treasured memories.

* * *

_“What do you want now?” Kenjirou says, exasperated. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and black out into blissful nothingness._

_“Hey, don’t snippy with me, brat.” Semi places his hands on his hips and leans towards Shirabu. This close, Semi could see all the signs of grief, the tight lines around his eyes of him holding in tears, the purse of his lips to stop them from trembling, the mile-high wall he’s built to keep others out._

_Too bad Semi always had a bad tendency to climb into high places and scare the hell out of his parents._

_“Just leave me alone, Semi-san.” Shirabu hangs his head, fringe concealing whatever emotion he failed to shut-out. He side-steps Semi to exit the locker room before he loses composure._

_“Can’t do that, sorry.” Semi says without a hint of remorse, capturing Shirabu’s wrist and tugging him into his chest._

_He can feel Shirabu gasp into his chest, shoulders tense enough that they must’ve hurt. Semi frowned and wrapped his arms around Shirabu and gives a short squeeze, waiting for the shorter to snap and scream profanities. Instead, Shirabu remains stock-still in his grasp._

_Judging that Semi has already pushed far enough and what was the harm in a little more, he raises a hand to sift his fingers through surprisingly soft dark golden hair, thumb rubbing small circles at the base of his skull. It was something he found comforting when his mother held him through nights rife with ghouls and ghosts, so surely it would help Shirabu as well._

_Semi lowers his head, resting his cheek on Shirabu’s head and breathes in the scent of apples and clean laundry fresh from the dryer._

_“It’s alright to cry sometimes. You can cry and still be strong.”_

_Shirabu’s arms wrap around Semi and holds him tight._

_“I know.” It’s a whisper but Semi heard it all the same._

_“You’re so strong to get this far. Your grandmother would be so proud of you.”_

_“I miss her so much.”_

_“She’s never really gone, y’know.” The sniffles die down and Semi’s almost afraid he pushed too far, said the wrong thing._

_“I though you didn’t believe in ghosts, Semi-san.”_

_Semi’s chest rumbles with a laugh and Shirabu quells the small smile that tried to sprout._

_“You’re right, I don’t.” Semi speaks, cheek tickled by the short strands. “But that doesn’t mean that they can’t hang around after their gone. We don’t know everything about death, so anything is possible.”_

_“That’s awfully philosophical from someone that said fish wasn’t a type of meat last week.”_

_Semi lets out an embarrassed laugh. God, they really were never going him to live down that no-brain moment._

_“Yeah, well even dogs dream so even animals are capable of some level of deeper thoughts.”_

_Shirabu simply hums in response, not even making an attempt at moving away from Semi’s hard chest. Out of nowhere, it hits Semi the kind of position they’re in and his heart starts to speed up and he tightens his hold on the slight frame before him, not wanting this pleasant instant in time to end._

_They stay like that for a few beats, chest to chest and hearts beating in synchrony._

_“I like the idea of ghosts.” Shirabu states out of the blue. “But I don’t believe in them either.”_

_Semi stays silent, hoping Shirabu elaborates. Shirabu never has been one to contribute to the team’s heavier conversations and so Semi was invested in finally catching a glimpse into the dizzying inner machinations of Shirabu’s intelligent mind._

_“I think that ghosts are memories – No, they’re wishes.” Shirabu draws back and nods his head, agreeing with himself._

_Semi cocks a brow. “A wish?”_

_Shirabu meets his eyes and Semi felt the world around them fade away._

_“A wish that the one you love is still by your side. That even death can’t separate you, unable to cut the tether of love that binds you to them.” The words come out in a rush, and Shirabu clams up and his cheeks burn when it registers what he just said._

_“That’s a sweet sentiment,” Semi replies, slightly taken aback by the passion in the usually apathetic starting setter. This was coming from the guy that didn’t hesitate to give Semi the cold shoulder if he even so much looked in his general direction on his more irritable days._

_Blush intensifying, Shirabu ducks his head again and withdraws from Semi’s chest. Smothering the dejected feeling at the loss, Semi ruffles carefully-styled hair, to which the other bats his hands away with an indignant huff._

_“I’ll have to remember that when I lose someone I love.”_

_Shirabu’s head snaps up, lips curled into a frown. “How morbid, Semi-san.”_

_Semi shrugs. Death was all around them, hiding in the rafts of the gym and sequestered in the cracks in the cement under their feet as they walk out of the gym. It would be foolish to deny that Semi won’t get his brush with death by losing the ones he loves before receiving its freezing touch himself._

_“That’s life.” Semi simply says. Shirabu gives him one last long look, eyes glassy from crying not too long ago, nose and cheeks painted pink and Semi couldn’t help but think_ ‘Oh he’s cute’ _before Shirabu looks away, staring up at the dead stars burning away in the night sky._

_“If it’s any consolation, I hope you don’t have to experience this kind of pain any time soon.” The sentiment in Shirabu’s voice made Semi’s heart lurch._

_Reigning his heart back into his chest, Semi stood there and wondered about just when Shirabu gained this much power over his heart._

_“Me too.” Semi whispers, eyes flitting over Shirabu’s sincere face before the shorter turned away from him and faced up towards the clear night sky. This was the kindest they’ve been to each other since introducing themselves and Semi wasn’t in a rush to go back to his dorm room yet, so he joined in on Shirabu’s impromptu star gazing session._

_They stand there for who knows how long, just staring up at the sky, minds whirling away. Semi was consumed with thoughts of life, love and all the joy that comes hand-in-hand with his startling realisation about his feelings for the boy beside him. Meanwhile, Shirabu stood there consumed by thoughts of caskets and too-perfectly styled hair of his grandmother and the cold temperature of the room he stood in for hours._

_Here under the pale silvery moonlight alongside a grieving Shirabu, Semi would have previously thought as dreadful time, but Semi never felt more alive._

_They were in opposite worlds, with opposite personalities with just barely enough similarities to bring them together in the first place. All Semi knew in all his seventeen years of life is just how badly he wanted to hold Shirabu’s hand and_ live _with him, in this moment and all the moments that will inevitably follow after._

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going to blame binge watching the haunting of hill house and bly manor in a week for this. I wrote this in less than three hours and it’s very rushed but I needed to get this out of my head so I can study.
> 
> I wanted to wait until semishira week was over because the fics I’ve been reading have all been so wonderful, but this fic is haunting me rn, so here it is. I look forward to joining in on semishira week next year when life isn’t so hectic !


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